Nuñ. Ah, now, they might do if you’d give them the horse to eat.
Men. Enough, enough—it has struck three. My gloves and tooth-pick!
Nuñ. That sinecure tooth-pick!
Men. I tell you I would brain anybody who insinuated to me I had not dined—and on game too. But tell me, Nuño, haven’t the soldiers come into Zalamea this afternoon?
Nuñ. Yes, sir.
Men. What a nuisance for the commonalty who have to quarter them!
Nuñ. But worse for those who haven’t.
Men. What do you mean, sir?
Nuñ. I mean the squires. Ah, sir; if the soldiers aren’t billeted on them, do you know why?